


The Memories That Hang the Heaviest

by OrigamiPrincess



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mild Description Of Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soft Diego Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22593550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrigamiPrincess/pseuds/OrigamiPrincess
Summary: Five and Diego bond over Diego's patience, persistence, and genuine love for his brother. Not all of Five's siblings remained as he remember them at thirteen. So much has changed since they grew up without him.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves
Comments: 9
Kudos: 227





	The Memories That Hang the Heaviest

**Author's Note:**

> "But the memories that hang the heaviest are the easiest to recall." -Julie Gregory
> 
> Wow, a story from me? And an angsty one at that. I don't like writing angst usually, but somehow that's what happened!
> 
> Don't tell me that Five doesn't have enough issues to fill fifty football stadiums. I've been homebound alone for six weeks now but he was alone for over forty years and I just can't imagine.

Diego was already in the kitchen when Five wandered, sock footed and sullen. He had hoped to avoid company as he stalked over to the coffee maker and dumped in some grinds, scattering the excess all over the counter.

" _Shit_ ," he growled, angrily sweeping the mess into one hand.

"Need some help there, bro?" Diego asked gently, like Five was some feral cat who needed bribery to calm down. 

"No, I do _not_ need help and I am _not_ your _bro_ ," Five seethed back, dumping the excess grinds into the sink and ripping his flask from his pocket much more roughly than he needed to. He heard a few stitches pop from his pants, mirroring his patience being ripped from him. He gripped the counter tightly.

"Ah," Diego remarked mildly. "I am going to have to disagree with at least one of those statements. Here." His arm slid into Five's vision reaching for a coffee mug and placing it in front of Five's clenched fist. Five fought back the urge to bite Diego's hand. While it would satiate his current desire for violence, it wouldn't do much in the long run to avoid Diego's mothering or, god forbid, a family meeting. For reasons unknown to him, Diego intimately _cared_ for each of his siblings despite quite literally being armed to the teeth at all times. Sure, he had always adored their mother and had done anything for her if given half a chance, but this older and more mellow Diego was something he couldn't quite wrap his head around. 

He hadn't noticed it, not at first. Ripping back into their world seemed to top the list of his siblings' priorities, even if those priorities were definitely _not_ aligned with his own. Seeing their faces, the faces that he had found cold and lifeless in the ruins of the Academy, alive and full of hostility and wariness was almost too much. He had sat for days next to their bodies, etching the lines of their faces into his memory as he tried to stoke his time traveling ability to life. After three days they had begun to smell, rot eating up their insides and escaping into the air around them. Five had tied a torn piece of cloth over his nose and mouth to try and repel the stench as he dragged rubble over to their bodies. He had not been able to dig very deeply into the charred ground around the Academy, so the best he could offer his siblings with their foreign faces and familiar tattoos were crude cairns made from the home they all despised and desired simultaneously.

So standing there, being surrounded by the faces that haunted him, he knew he had to stick to his mission closer than ever. He couldn't stand to see them lifeless again now that he had seen them so animated, the siblings he had known now inside the bodies of these strangers.

And they certainly were still his siblings. He could attest to the fact that none of them had hardly changed one bit since that November day he had stormed out of the Academy and never returned. Although he had not seen Vanya's adult face except for the faded author's photo on the back of her book, she didn't seem as foreign to him as the others did. Ben's face was the only unknown, his face in Five's mind a smudged and incomplete rendering he often tried to fill in details for.

So he did the only thing he could do, a ritual to ground him as he gathered his bearings; he made a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. He filled in his siblings on where he had been with the barest details he could manage, avoiding direct eye contact as discreetly as he could and filling the kitchen with the smell of peanut butter to cover the ghostly smell of rot their faces brought from his memories.

It wasn't as hard as he thought it would be, adjusting to his siblings as they were now. Klaus still carried the smell of nicotine and ozone, like his frenetic energy was constantly sparking in the atmosphere around him. He was still the dichotomy of caring and selfish he was seventeen years ago. Allison smelled of lily of the valley and money, that unidentifiable smell of those who want for nothing. He had never expected her to have a child; she had been one of the most self centered people he had ever seen, and yet here she was, both despising and craving her power with an added, albeit weak, motherly compassion. Luther still smelled of musk on a hot summer's day which did not reflect his current body in the least. Vanya smelled softly of gardenias and sunshine, neither of which seemed to match her adult life in the least. And Diego still smelled like the tang of metal and leather, almost an exact echo of his thirteen year old self.

Now the rot only existed in his nightmares, and then only rarely. He had now seen more of their faces full of life than full of death, though his mind often liked to remind him how irrational dreams could be. 

But he had been wrong, painting his siblings with the broad strokes of their thirteen year old selves. Not entirely, not exactly, but wrong all the same. It was subtle, those pieces of his siblings that they hid, but it was there. Love, loyalty, sacrifice, patience. Small flowers that grew up amongst the thorns they were sown with.

None of them had surprised him like Diego had, though. Diego had his soft spots, but he rarely acknowledged them and lashed out when he was caught expressing them. This Diego had grown a soft spot for Klaus, though Five couldn't really imagine why he had persisted with that patience after he had heard from Klaus some of the exploits he had been apart of over the years. This Diego still adored their mom, though he was far more open about it, comfortable in the truth of it.

But this Diego had also softened towards Luther. Not in any way you could see, not unless you were paying close attention, but it was there. They would still fight, loud and brash, but Five had seen Diego discreetly leave a box of battered old records he had picked up in a place Luther would eventually discover them. Five had heard Diego request Luther's favorite dessert from their mother one evening after Luther had had a bad day. Compassion wasn't something that was taught or nurtured in the Hargreeves household and even then, he only ever thought Ben capable of it. 

Diego even made sure Allison was taken care of, though it was frequently done through things he had found for Claire. A small toy he picked up at a thrift store or some nail polish at the local drug store. And for all of his bluster towards Vanya and her book, he stalked her like only an overbearing and protective older brother would.

But he didn't _want_ that compassion right now, didn't _need_ it. He needed the old Diego, the prickly and standoffish one that would leave him _alone_ , so he said the most hurtful thing he could think of.

"Don't think that just because your girlfriend's guts are no longer spread out on the floor of a dingy hotel room that you are a different person. You're still the same brash and untalented _number two_ of this family." He ripped the lid off of his flask of alcohol and dumped almost the entirety of the contents into his full to the brim coffee mug. 

Diego's body tensed next to his, a small gasp stifled in the back of his throat. Five looked to his face, held Diego's gaze of poorly masked indifference, and smiled meanly. He took a long pull of his more-alcohol-than-coffee drink, scalding his throat as he stepped away and made to jump.

But then Diego sighed. He sighed the sigh of a slightly exasperated yet fond brother, grasping Five's wrist in his. Five froze for a moment evaluating his options. He needed to get Diego to let him go and not follow him afterwards. He glanced down at Diego's hand, lightly circling Five's own and littered with cuts and bruises in varying states of healing. He could break the hold without blinking, tearing his wrist towards Diego's thumb and taking advantage of the weak point there. He could even dislocate the thumb or break it, rendering enough pain so that Diego would let him go and also provide a distraction for a while. 

He could snap Diego's wrist with his free hand, digging his fingers between the fragile bones and yanking. Then there was the incredibly hot coffee he was holding. He could throw it in Diego's face, blinding him, but that was an incredible waste of coffee and alcohol and would only lend power to Five's sour mood. He could also bludgeon Diego with the mug, but again, a waste of coffee.

He was contemplating sweeping Diego's legs out from under him when Diego took a knee in front of him, releasing his wrist in the process. Five blinked, his scowl slipping a fraction. He had no idea what Diego was doing and therefore he had no idea how to counter it. Diego was staring at him, looking into his eyes, face soft and frowning with concern. None of the hurt he had just caused could be found.

"Five," Diego said, voice even. 

" _What_?" Five snarled back, though with less heat than he would have liked.

Diego sighed again, a short and slightly exasperated sound, before closing his eyes briefly and nodding. He stood, plucked the mug out of Five's grip, and swiftly dumped the contents down the sink.

Five had one of Diego's own knives against his throat in a heartbeat before he consciously thought about it. He was breathing heavily, body moving on autopilot, as a growl emerged from deep in his sternum.

Diego, for his part, simply stood still and looked Five in the eyes, watching. 

"Alcohol isn't good for a young liver," was all he said by way of explanation. 

Five dug the knife closer to Diego's throat, rage building as a trickle of blood started towards Diego's adam's apple. The audacity of his _imbecile_ of a brother was off the charts. He had been taking care of himself for over _forty years_ , he had consumed cockroaches and rotten meat and contaminated water, he had _murdered people in cold blood_ just to survive and here Diego was, presuming to think Five needed _anything_ from him. He didn't need a keeper, he didn't need a brother, he didn't need _protection_ , especially from himself. His eyes burned and his throat tightened and he didn't realize he must have voiced some of his thoughts until Diego gave another small, _infuriating_ , sigh and leaned into Five's knife causing the trickle to become more of a river as the metal bit into his skin.

Five froze as rivulets of blood escaped from around the knife, wending towards Diego's shirt and disappearing beneath. He was breathing hard, gusts of breath tearing from his lungs, but Diego's breathing was soft and even. Diego's eyes watched him, but they were void of the worry they had contained only moments earlier replaced with complete and utter trust.

It was the trust that threw Five for a loop. He had never, not in any of his training with the Commission or fulfillment of his contracts, seen his victim give him a look of such blatant _trust_. Like he was giving his brother a gentle hug instead of holding a knife to his throat. 

Five dropped the knife as if it burned him. Emotions swirled around him, flitting wildly, never settling on one for long enough that Five could process it properly. His thoughts dissolved into a thick fog, flowing like honey through his fingers, sticky and not quite there.

"Five," Diego's voice broke through the deadly whirlpool of his thoughts and emotions. Five jerked, cursing his body for reacting without his permission. Diego was still looking at him, body still frozen in the position it had been when Five was holding a knife to him. "May I touch you?"

Five's mind was running so fast he didn't have the facilities to mask his expressions as they appeared in real time on his face. He felt a frown of confusion form before a spike of reminded anger appeared and evaporated before he nodded, slowly and cautiously. It felt as if his mind had shorted out, thoughts spinning but always returning to the knife, the blood, the scent of rot echoing in his nostrils. 

Diego took one of his elbows with purpose and guided him to the other half of the room, past the pool table. He stopped them both in front of the couch and took a seat, looking up at Five.

"Will you sit?" Diego asked, making himself comfortable on the couch. Blood still coated his neck, bright and slick.

Five sat. Well, he intended to sit, but it ended up being more like a boneless collapse that caused him to bounce slightly against the cushions before settling.

"After you left, we waited for hours for you to come back. Me and the others. We waited late into the night, sneaking to each other's rooms, silent and waiting. We took turns after the first night, keeping watch so the others could get some sleep. It wasn't until after a week passed that Dad pulled us into the living room and told us if we were going to spend our nights awake then we would be assigned training instead of sleep. Vanya was the only one…" Diego trailed off, staring blankly in front of him.

"She left you sandwiches. She always left a light on, somewhere in the house, so that when you returned, you would know which house was ours. Which was stupid, because of course you know which house is ours," he scoffed, fidgeting with one of his smaller knives. "It stopped after Ben died. I think that's when we all…" he trailed off again, breath hitching a bit. "Yeah." 

Five stared at his hands in his lap, tattoo peeking out of his shirt sleeves, stark against his pale skin.

Diego shifted, the movement almost shy and uncomfortable. "We're not… _I'm_ not the same Diego you grew up with," he admitted softly, almost to himself. "We're definitely still screwed six ways to Sunday, but…" Another pause. Diego grunted and steeled himself. "You're family, Five. You never stopped being family. You're the same annoying, self-righteous prick that you were when we were younger, but… I-I…" Diego worked his mouth around the sound, chewing it with frustration. "I... won't lose you, not now that you're b-back." He ground his teeth, face grimaced. Opened his mouth, shut it.

"I don't know what happened to you," he began again after a long pause. "And I don't need to. That's your story to tell. But you need… No. You _can_ trust us. You can trust _me_. I don't care who you were, what you've done, I care about _you_. The Five that's here with me right now. I know you hate the body you are in, but I've seen what alcohol can do to someone so young-"

Five cut him off with a growl. 

"-a _body_ so young," he corrected. "-and I'm… just concerned. You don't always remember to eat and I know you don't get much rest when you manage to sleep and I know I don't have any idea what you went through but…" Diego gave an exasperated sigh, running his hands over his face. "Dammit. I'm shit at this." He turned to Five. "Hey, look at me."

Five didn't feel like complying with any demand right now, but he turned to Diego anyways, mind more collected and body more exhausted. 

Diego's mouth worked again, jaw muscles jumping with the trapped words. Giving up, he scooted closer to Five, stopping right before they touched. Hesitantly, he reached his hand over and carefully placed it over one of Five's own, careful not to trap it should Five want to pull away. And Five normally would have pulled away, jumped to somewhere no one could find him and worked equations until his mind had reordered itself into what it always was. But the warm weight of Diego's calloused hand over his own touched a broken place deep inside of him and soothed the tiniest bit of the hurt there. He expected the storm of emotions to erupt once more, to fling his composed mind into chaos, but all he felt was all consuming exhaustion but with a tiny bit of the burden lifted. 

His eyes flitted to Diego's neck, the blood now beginning to dry and flake around the cut. A deep shame began to wash over him. But then Diego was there, ruffling his hair into a rat's nest, and he batted him away, growling lightly in annoyance. Diego shot him a grin, all teeth as he hopped up from the couch. 

"You need a shower, bro, your hair is super greasy," he said cheekily, sauntering back towards the kitchen. He wet a rag and swiped it across his neck, blood disappearing with each movement. 

Five scowled at him from his position still on the couch. 

Diego chuckled, throwing the soiled rag into the trash. He grabbed an apple from the basket of fruit beside the sink and took a big bite, walking towards the entrance of the kitchen.

"Oh," he said, stopping and turning to Five. "There's some ice cream I got from work I put in the freezer. It's marshmallow flavor or something like that? I dunno. Don't let Klaus eat it all." He gave Five a wink and left the kitchen. 

Five considered the spot where Diego had been sitting beside him for a long time. Diego definitely hadn't gotten ice cream from work, especially not marshmallow flavored. He huffed a fond laugh and shook his head in disbelief. Finally, he blinked to the cupboard and pulled out a bowl.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story! If you are so inclined, drop a line or give some kudos! I have another story idea, so maybe we will get lucky and you all will get another one soon!


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